Strawberry Fair (song)


Strawberry Fair is an English folk song.
The song was collected by H. Fleetwood Sheppard in Broadstone, Devon, in 1891. The text may have been re-written by Sabine Baring Gould and Fleetwood Sheppard.

Lyrics

As I was going to Strawberry Fair,

Singing, singing, Butter-cups and Daisies

I met a maiden taking her ware,

Fol-de-dee!

Her eyes were blue and golden her hair,

As she went on to Strawberry Fair,

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do,

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee.
"Kind Sir, pray pick of my basket!" she said,

Singing, singing, Butter-cups and Daisies

"My cherries ripe, or my roses red,

Fol-de-dee!

My strawberries sweet, I can of them spare,

As I go on to Strawberry Fair."

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do,

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee.
"Your cherries soon will be wasted away;"

Singing, singing, Butter-cups and Daisies

"Your roses wither'd and never stay,

Fol-de-dee.

'Tis not to seek such perishing ware

That I am tramping to Strawberry Fair."

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do,

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee.
I want to purchase a generous heart,

Singing, singing, Butter-cups and Daisies

A tongue that neither is nimble or tart.

Tol-de-dee!

An honest mind, but such trifles are rare

I doubt if they're found at Strawberry Fair.

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do,

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee.
The price I offer, my sweet pretty maid

Singing, singing, Butter-cups and Daisies

A ring of gold on your finger displayed,

Tol-de-dee!

So come- make over to me your ware,

In church today at Strawberry Fair.

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do,

Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee.

Versions